The French Teacher and the English Student
by Loveless4life
Summary: Arthur is a student in a school in the late 1960's and Francis is his new art teacher. Though they don't get along well at first, Arthur soon learns that Francis actually has a heart. Highschool AU! pairings: Francis x Arthur, or Fruk! Warnings: Underage, Teacher x Student.
1. Chapter 1

**The French teacher and the English Student.**

Arthur jumped out of his bed. He looked around frantically, gasping when he found his alarm clock thrown onto the ground. He was late for the first day back to school. He was late for the first day of Second year, coming back after the long and certainly memorable Summer holidays. Cursing himself, he took off his sea blue pyjamas before putting on a shirt, green sweater vest and his new jeans he'd got specially for the day before running out of his room and downstairs.

His three older brothers and one sister, Allistor, Patrick, Ryan and Ayva watched him run past them. They were annoyed him. Him being late meant they were too and by now they had missed the bus so they'd have to walk. Arthur sighed to himself, it wasn't his fault they were late, if they were more quiet the night before he would've got more sleep!

"Come on you little fecker! We have to go now!" Patrick complained, though Arthur didn't see, he had thrown his two arms in the air with frustration. From the kitchen he could hear them sigh, oh how he wished his oldest brothers would come home from Australia and New Zealand, they could stand up for him. Or would they? They'd probably just join in!

Finally with a kiss for his mother and a wave to his father he was out the door. He strolled a bit back from his older siblings, not being able to catch up as they walked much too fast. They didn't seem to care and Arthur noticed they were actually walking faster than usual. The number one sign that they were annoyed with him. Bored with looking at the backs of his sibling, he decided to look around at the London scenery instead. Not that it was any more exciting but he always did like looking at the medieval church behind the many houses.

Since it was some time in the late 1960's, there wasn't many cars on the road and when nearing the school Arthur saw his friend Alfred and his twin brother Matthew walking towards them. His siblings scoffed seeing 'the stupid American' running towards them. Alfred waved frantically at the elder children but got sighs in return for his effort.

"Hey Arthur! It'd good to see you after so long!" Alfred laughed patting Arthur on the back harshly causing the English boy to fall forward a bit. Arthur tried to smile though looked back to the ground obviously not up for talking. "Oh, okay... Did you hear The Beatles new album? It's really good isn't it?"

Arthur shrugged. And by then Alfred decided to give up. The rest of the way was pure silence and also on entering the school Arthur wasn't up for talking either. When all his books were put away into his new locker -number 19 to by precise- he checked his timetable. First class of the new school year was art; how fun!

Whispers among his fellow classmates said that they were getting a new art teacher, though Arthur knew those rumours were probably fake, or had Ms. Héderváry really gone on maternity leave? He waited anxiously, and kept staring at the door. The young boy beside him looked a bit worried. "Hey, are you, like, okay?"

Arthur turned his head, seeing a young boy, or girl Arthur couldn't tell, his age, probably European, with short blonde hair tied into two tiny ponytails and most of his hair clipped to one side. Arthur was about to reply but the door of the classroom opened and the principal, Mr. Ludwig Beilschmidt, walked in and slammed his books down onto the wooden desk which was on top of a small height.

"Are you all class 2B?" He asks and most shake their head in agreement, including Arthur.  
"Vell, sir, some of us are 2E and others are 2F!" The class clown, or want to be class clown, also known as Yong-Soo, said in the most fakest German accent Arthur had ever heard. Ever!

Mr. Beilschmidt blindly ignored him, scoffing at the young Korean who sat directly in front of him. "The reason vhy I am here is because I vould like to introduce you to your new teacher, Mr. Bonnefoy. He is from Paris, France. I hope you vill all be nice to him when he comes and make him zink you are a good class!" He took a breath, "Vhich you are obviously not, Mr. Im.

Yong-Soo laughed out loud throwing his hands behind the two people who sat beside him, both mentioned moved their chairs away, very, very quickly. Just as silence filled the room, the door burst open once again and a young man walked inside. Arthur gasped upon his arrival, he hadn't noticed but his mouth had dropped a little. Arthur was so star struck he hadn't even noticed Mr. Beilschmidt leave or that the new teacher had actually begun the class.

"Bonjour, mon petit eleves! It is tres bien to meet you all! I am Mr Bonnefoy... but if you require anything you can just call me Francis or 'big brother' if you prefer!" He smiled and Arthur hadn't ever seen anyone in London with a smile as bright as that one, well maybe his father was an exception when he saw the Christmas dinner but the one Mr. Bonnefoy had was... flawless.

"Now, if you don't mind, I would like to get to know your names, I'll go around the classroom and you can tell me a bit about yourselves then!" Arthur hadn't ever seen the shade of blonde that Francis' hair was, it was nothing like his messy sandy brown hair, it was smooth and it looked incredibly silky. When the teacher turned he caught Arthurs eyes. Pale, limey green meet a magnificent shad of oceanic blue, it was almost as blue as the seas off of Greece. Arthur blushed as Francis chuckled waving at the young teen.

When it finally came the time for Arthur to speak, he wasn't any more interesting than the rest, well he had found out the person beside him was in fact a boy from Poland, and that he had a younger sister and brother.

"My name is Arthur Kirkland," Kirkland, the name caused a few whispers, "I'm originally from London, and I have five older brothers and one younger, I also have an older sister."

Francis gasped, "That is seven siblings? Eight including you! Oh, mon Dieu, your parents must have been busy!"

Arthur blushed as a roar of laughter filled the classroom. How dare he say that! He was so embarrassed. That stupid frog! The sound of a chair crashing to the ground made heads turn and the laughing ceased when all noticed that tears dripped down the boys face.

"How can you say that you bloody frog?! You don't know how much I've been through, I don't need you're bloody insults on top of that! Just go back to France you wanker!" Arthur screamed at the top of his lungs, trying to at least scare the Frenchman. He succeeded, kind of, as Francis stepped back a bit in pure surprise.

"Um, mon lapin, I didn't mean to cause such harm..." He went to walk over to the crying boy, but Arthur pushed him away. "How can you say that about someone else when you don't even know their background? Just give me some time... ALONE!"

With that he stormed out of the class causing many children to watch in horror as the teacher had no way to continue the class. Francis was shocked with the boys behaviour. Had he really gone through that much to act that way toward a teacher? And it wasn't really an insult, it was the truth. Obviously if you have eight children you're going to have to be busy, no?

In the bathrooms, Arthur was sobbing to himself. This was not how he planned on spending his first day, let alone his first class. Talking about his family was a touchy subject for the young Brit. First his oldest brother, Jett, eloped to Australia at the age of eighteen to marry a girl he'd just met, needless to say, they were still married and they even had a daughter that was about the same age as Arthur youngest brother, Peter **(Peter is eight in this, just saying!)**. Secondly, there was rumours going around that his older brothers, Patrick and Allistor, were having an affair together. Arthur could confirm that. Let's just say he say more than he should've one night when he was going to the bathroom. Anyway, that put an extremely bad name on the Kirkland clan and second oldest, Christop changed his last name and packed off to New Zealand.

Lastly, though these were really false accusations, said that only daughter, Ayva Kirkland, was pregnant with a much older man. Ayva, who was fifteen at the time, but is now sixteen like twin Patrick, nearly cried her eyes out telling Arthur and her parents it wasn't true, Arthur was surprised that she didn't faint over how much she actually cried.

His family was well known throughout the school as well. Despite the rumours his brothers and sister were talk of the school, in terms of good looks, it seemed they were all good looking but him. On top of that Allistor, Ryan and Patrick were a part of the school's rugby team, which made them more popular amongst all the wailing love sick girls of the school.

He sighed resting his head on his knees. Where was Alfred when you needed him?

Though Arthur didn't think he could, he actually got through the rest of the day without bumping into the frog, as he now called him. He took the bus with his sibling home, and as he didn't get much homework he went out to play soccer after. Though his sibling were extremely good at rugby most didn't realise that Arthur was quite the soccer player. They boys on his team were lucky to have him as when being bullied by his siblings he storm outside to kick around the ball, this made him quite skilled as he was bullied nearly every day.

The next day he didn't have art, nor the next. On Thursday afternoon he strolled in the room and sat in his usual place waiting for his double class to start. Francis walked in and his attention was immediately drawn to the calm young boy who sat in front of him now wearing glasses, his sketch pad out and ready to get going. Unknowingly Francis was staring at the boy. He was so interesting the man decided.

Well into the class they were nearly finished their first assignment- to draw a shoe. Arthur was quite proud of his if he was to be honest. Others had actually said it was very good, and that made him feel happier than he was the other class. Francis had noticed this when he looked up from his French magazine. Arthur actually looked happy. Francis figured that he was indeed a very troubled youngster who hardly got praise.

When they were all finished Francis walked around inspecting them. Nothing good from what he could see, and as he got closer to Arthur he had to say he felt a bit excited. Finally taking a deep breath he turned and looked at the boy's shoe. It was magnificent, he could've gasped out loud but he kept calm.

"Terrible... You 'ave no talent at all!" Francis said and the class fell silent. Arthur was angry at the frog once again though tried not to do or say anything but instead look cool. "Do you call zhat a shoe? You must be joking me!"

"Hey don't jump to conclusions you-" He was about to say frog but Francis put a finger to the youngsters mouth. "Non, non, non, you will not say zhat to you teacher! Do it again tonight!"

And with that the bell rang to signal the end of the day and Francis smirked and walked off. Arthur was nearly going to cry again or even burn the building down on top of that useless git. He took a deep breath. He couldn't let this happen again he had to show Francis he was a good student!

Though it kept happening, Francis never praised him, he only ever said the others were good. Arthur was so confused he was trying to be a good student. After four long weeks, Francis finally revealed his intentions to the young boy.

"Arthur you have to stay back after school tomorrow, please. I'm going to give you private lessons." Arthur looked at Francis in disbelief, though the Frenchman seemed serious. "Why? I can't be worse than any of the others in this bloody class. Why me?"

"Oh, non, don't be comparing yourself! You are worse than all of them, mon lapin!" Francis laughed. Arthur clenched his fists at his side. "Fine! I'll go you stupid git!"

"Good! I hope to see you soon then!" He smiled ruffling the boys hair. Arthur screeched in disgust. "What in God's name do you think you're doing get off me!"

"Oh, pardon moi!" Francis said but the English boy had already stormed out of the room.

"Arthur Kirkland... You are a very interesting and beautiful young boy..."

**Hello! Loveless4life here! I got bored and starting thinking of this in my head one night. I hope you all like. I know it's a bit slow at the start but once I get into it we'll be flying ahead!**

**For those of you who aren't Irish, or even in England I think they use it, 'fecker' is an offensive term we use. Not all the time but sometimes like for example, 'for feck sake!". We could use that if we drop something. Just saying in case you didn't know.**

**Anyways hope you like so far, and please review,**

** Loveless4life!**


	2. Chapter 2

**The French Teacher and the English Student.**

Staying back after school was something Arthur wasn't familiar with. He was normally a goody-goody in school, so naturally everyone was a bit suspicious, especially his siblings. He walked towards the art room and knocked on the door gently. For a minute there was no answer, and Arthur began to think Francis had forgot about him.

He knocked again, this time Francis opened the door. For some reason he had a massive grin on his face. He motioned for Arthur to come in, which he did and sat down at the place Francis wanted him to. Arthur noted that Francis sat rather close to him and scooted away a bit. Though Francis took no notice and simply went on.

"So, you need to work on the shading. The light is coming in this way, so the shading points will be here, here and here. Do you understand?" Arthur watched Francis pointing to the different places. It was easy in his eyes. He knew how to do it, he didn't need lessons, why couldn't that frog see that?

"Yes, I know how to do it!" Arthur snapped. Francis sighed continuing on with his lesson.

"Look, I'm just trying to 'elp, you could be a bit more cooperative..." Francis watched the boy carefully. He was blushing profusely for some reason.

"I am cooperative... I'm just not good with one-on-one conversations!" Arthur protested turning his head so he wasn't facing Francis. He really hated this, having to sit alone with a guy you hate. It would probably end in havoc. Though he was kind of glad he was with Francis, because Francis didn't know anything about his family and couldn't call him a slut or whore like others did. The reason behind the names were quite simple. Since all his siblings had bad rumours to their names, Arthur was no exception. Rumours said that Arthur Kirkland, second youngest and sixth son, was a slut, selling himself off to all the men he could find. Though the rumours weren't as major as his brothers, it still hurt.

"Good thing I'm skilled then, no? Let's have a conversation!" Francis laughed. Seeing the boys confused face made the Frenchman a little warm inside. Arthur really was something.  
"Ok, let's begin! Bonjour, my name Francis Bonnefoy!" Francis held out one hand for Arthur to shake it. Arthur hesitated but seeing the smile on Francis's face would change anyone's mind. "Hello, I'm Arthur Kirkland."

"Ok, and how old are you Arthur?" Francis asks, watching the boy with a careful eye. Arthur is a boy of many talents, but he dosen't like to show them, he is also shy, though if he wants to get something across, oh, he will. "Eh, I'm fifteen a-and you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm twenty six!" Twenty six? He was young, Arthur thought. Francis noticed that Arthur was still blushing. Was it because he was around. Was Arthur in love with him? He smiled at the thought.

"So are you going out with anyone Arthur?" The Brit looked around frantically, because anywhere was better than the teachers eyes. "Eh, n-no. Not at the moment."

Francis smiled, putting a bit of Arthur's hair behind his ear. Arthur nearly died. Francis touch was so gently, so soft. Francis gasped realising what he had done. "Oh! Pardon moi, it was kind of annoying me, I mean not annoying me, but it just... you really are a mysterious young boy."

"Oh," Arthur tried to look as flirty as possible, though only as a joke, "Is that a bad thing?"

Francis eyes widened. This was wrong. He was getting drawn in. Arthur was eleven years his junior, he couldn't touch him. If he did he'd be thrown in prison, especially because Arthur was under sixteen. Though he couldn't help it.

Arthur noticed that Francis looked oddly star struck, or maybe even pleasantly surprised. He also noticed Francis hand was on his, he looked down at their entangled hands, this was bad. Francis had leaned in closer, though Arthur didn't move. No one else was in the school were they? So it wouldn't matter if anything happened. But what if Mr. Beilschmidt and the vice, Mr. Edelstein were still here? That would be bad if they were found out.

Arthur could feel Francis' breath against his neck. It sent shivers down his spine, though it felt surprisingly right in many ways.

"Arthur..." Francis turned Arthur's head so they were looking at each other straight in the eye. Arthur's limey, bottle green eyes were close to closing, Francis couldn't help but find it very alluring. Just a bit away for each other. So close yet so far.

Francis leaned in a few more centimetres closing the unwanted gap between them. Francis' lips were on his, his thumb gently stroking his flushed cheeks. Many would only say that the kiss was short and sweet, more like meeting a friend than anything, though both men saw it much differently.

Arthur opened his eyes slowly , noticing Francis was now looking away from him.

"That all for now Arthur, you can go now..." Francis sounded confused, like he was in deep thought. Well, so was Arthur. He placed a soft touch to his lips. That was his first kiss...

On Friday, Arthur had art just before lunch, the memories of the evening before were still heavy in his mind and he wasn't really up for the Frenchman. So he walked really slowly to the class, hoping to miss more than five minutes of it. He walked into the bathroom, heaving a sigh as he checked himself in the mirror, not that he was conscious of what he looked like but it was merely a distraction.

A little time had passed, Arthur was still in the bathroom, pacing around like a caged animal. To his surprise the heavy steel door was pushed open and in came the boy he sat beside in art, though his blonde hair was now down, he still wore the skirt.

"Hey, are you, like, ok? Mr. Bonnefoy asked me to, like, go find you." The young pole said walking over to the slightly bewildered Arthur. Francis sent someone out looking for him? Did that meant he actually did care?

"Um, yeah, I just feel a bit sick that's all!" He lied. "Oh, 'cause Francis is, like totally, worried about you."

Francis was worried? Arthur couldn't explain the warm feeling that he felt deep down inside of him. It made him blush slightly.

"Hey I don't think we really, like, introduced ourselves before." The Pole smiled holding out his hand. Arthur was sure it was the same boy who said that he wasn't good with strangers, but he seemed pretty ok to Arthur. "I'm Feliks Łukasiewicz."

"Oh, hey, I'm Arthur K-Kirkland." Arthur took hold of the boy's hand. He watched for a reaction when he said Kirkland but was surprised when there was none.

"Kirkland... Oh, right." Arthur wondered what he meant by that. Was Feliks disgusted by him, and only after his surname? "Anyways, you're, like, totally nice Arthur we should be friends! I could introduce you to, like, another few of my other friends if you want?"

Arthur nodded and laughed in relief, "That would be great!"

The second time the bathroom door opened another young boy came in, though this time his long hair was brown, and at least he was wearing pants...

"Feliks, come on! Mr. Bonnefoy is waiting for you to return!" Ah, that was right. They were all in the same art class. That boy had said he was from Lithuania or somewhere like that, and if Arthur could recall correctly his name began with a T.

"Toris, I'm, like, coming! God! Give me, like, another sec!" Feliks complained putting his hands on his hips and jutting out to one side. He kind of reminded Arthur of his sister when she was giving back cheek to their mother.

"Sorry, Feliks, I was just warning you!" Toris said his tone full of guilt, now looking to the ground.

"Anyways, Arthur, you, like, need to come back in." Feliks explained before walking towards the door. Toris had called Feliks' name desperately again and Feliks left shouting, "OMG, Toris I'm coming!"

Arthur sighed. He had to go in. If he didn't than would Francis think he was a chicken? Or that he thought it was that they kissed? He had to admit it was a bizarre experience kissing with a teacher, but it was also so sneaky, it could of made Arthur feel a little more excited than usual.

On entering the art room he explained to Francis that he felt sick, though Francis had no intention on looking at him, and even snapped at him to sit down already. Good thing that everyone had their heads in the new project so no one took any notice.

At the end of the class Arthur went up to Francis. It wasn't really the smart thing to do, but Arthur felt the need to.

"Mr. Bonnefoy, I mean Francis, do I need to stay back today?" He asked leaning forward onto the mahogany desk. Francis looked at him straight on, not even blinking, nor shifting.

"Arthur, even though you still aren't that good," He lied, "I don't want you coming after school anymore."

"Wait, why I didn't do anything?" That was questionable in Francis' eyes.

"Look Arthur, I don't want to hurt you... and I know that if I spend personal time with you, that I might... well, fall for you." Francis said straight out. Arthur's eyes didn't widen, nor did he step back in surprise. In fact, he was more upset than surprised.

"But, sir, you said it yourself, I'm bad at art and I need lessons. And yesterday was a mistake, so can't we just forget about it?"Arthur pleaded and he would've got down on his hands and knees, though that would've looked weird to passers-by.

"Arthur, I can't forget it. I kissed you." Francis trailed off slowly at the last part, the memory still fresh in his mind.

"But sir-" He was cut off by Francis banging his hands off the desk very hard.

"Can't you see Arthur, I can't be alone with you... I don't know what I'd do! And about you being bad at art... I lied, just to get close to you! Arthur I'm eleven years your senior, It would be best if you go find someone your own age." Francis hand was red from the bang he gave it. Arthur was in disbelief. He didn't know why, but he felt like he was going to cry again.

"Okay, I understand. I'm sorry for bothering you again, Mr. Bonnefoy. Please forgive me." Arthur's tone was flat almost as if it had been forced out, which it was. He didn't want to leave, yet he had decided that he really did hate this man.

Francis watched as the boy left. He entangled his hands into his long hair. Why was he so harsh on him?

Arthur met with Feliks just after going outside. Feliks was happy to see him again, on better terms, and Arthur decided to eat lunch with him, after all Feliks bubbly personality could make anywhere forget about a bad day.

"Come on, I'll, like, show you all my friends!" Arthur was being dragged up the stairs to the lunch room by Feliks who was extremely energetic despite his girly-girl features.

Arthur laughed with him, taking one last look back at Francis who was locking the art room. He scoffed, that kiss meant nothing to him. Francis was right he should find someone his own age, who wasn't a stuck up frog like someone he knew. The young Polish boy finally stopped dragging Arthur when they reached the outside of the lunch room. "Come on let's go inside!"

Francis watched Arthur run upstairs with that cross dresser boy in his class. Arthur seemed happy despite what had happened. Could he have moved on that quickly? But then, Arthur was never probably in love with him from the beginning so the kiss didn't matter to him. Francis sighed. Just then, Ms. Braginskaya passed him.

"Bonjour, Yekatrina, could I come to lunch with you?" He asked and she turned. "Who, me? Of course Francis!"

As Francis walked down with the slightly large breasted women, he mind was still on Arthur. Did he love Arthur? Or didn't he? He could quite make up his mind.

**Hey, hope you liked chapter two! Thanks to all who followed and liked already, I really appreciate it! Sorry it came out a little bit late but I'm also trying to update my other story so that's kinda hard to do as well!**

**Anyways, Thanks for reading and Please review,  
Loveless4life!**


	3. Chapter 3

**The French Teacher and the English student.**

Arthur really had enough of his sibling constant torturing. He had just run up the stairs and flopped onto his bed, wishing he'd just disappear or get a different family. Ryan and Ayva were telling him off because he was after putting their cups in the wrong shelf, well if they wanted it done so perfectly they could've done it themselves! Then Allistor, Patrick and his father started scolding him because he got a bad score in maths class, he never said it was his best subject. The only one not annoying him was his mother, even Peter called him a jerk for no particular reason.

He sighed, detaching himself from his bed and walking over to his stereo. To his enjoyment the Beatles new song 'All you need is Love' was playing. He glanced around his room before falling back onto his bed. He really needed to get out of London, yes it was true that when he was five they had moved to Ireland for a while, but this time he needed to see the rest of the world.

"Hey Ms. Kirkland, is Arthur home?" Arthur had heard his name. He looked at his white wooded door. It was obviously Arthur and Matthew. They always came at this time on Fridays. When he heard footsteps practically running up the stairs he opened the door for the brothers.

"Hey Artie!" Alfred laughed walking past Arthur and into his room. "Don't call me that!"

"Eh, uh, hi Arthur!" Matthew smiled sitting down on Arthur's bed with care, still clinging to his polar bear teddy he always seemed to carry around. "Hey Matthew!"

"Hey Arthur, where were you at lunch today? I didn't see you!" Alfred asked, picking up a few of Arthur's records he had stacked on a shelf in the corner of his room. "Eh, well this boy called Feliks asked me would I have lunch with him, and he introduced me to his friends. You probably now some of them already. You now Toris, he's in your science class isn't he?"

Alfred thought for a moment, "Brown hair, kinda tall and shy?".

Arthur nodded, and Alfred clasped his hands together, "Yep I know the guy! He's Feliks boyfriend, isn't he?"

"Eh, I thought they were kinda close, so probably!" Arthur laughed.

Matthew watched the two talk, feeling a tiny bit left out. Though what could he say, he was always left out of everything. He was barely noticed anywhere he went, even in school the teachers seemed to forget about him.

There was a knock on the door, making all boys heads turn. Arthur's mother came in holding a tray of different treats and drinks. She smiled, "I thought you might like something, boys. Though, if you two didn't have your dinner yet you can take things home for your mother and yourselves for later!"

Alfred and Matthew's father was away at Vietnam, so their mother moved back to England from America to be with relatives a few years ago. They really feared the worst for their father as there was no news from him yet, so the whole Kirkland family knew not to mention him, as it was a touchy subject for the brothers.

"Eh, thank you Ms. Kirkland!" Matthew thanked, Alfred to engrossed by the food to thank Arthur's mother. "You're very welcome Matthew, tell your mother I said hi when you go home."

With that Arthur's mother left them alone, going back downstairs to help Peter with a project for school.

"Your mother's so nice Artie!" Alfred said between mouthfuls of chocolate cake. Arthur sighed, she really was the nicest out of his family, though even though she knew that Arthur was being bullied she didn't tell the siblings off. Maybe she was scared of them?

"Your mother's really nice too, she knows exactly how to make the tea I like!" Arthur and the brothers laughed.

Matthew and Alfred went home later that night, with only a quarter of the sweets that Arthur's mother had given them, as Alfred ate most of them. The next day Arthur did his homework for most of it. On Sunday, he had to get dressed up in his best suit for church. He didn't hate going to church, but he did hate the suit. It was such a weird fabric and so itchy!

His mother, Ayva and Peter were ushered to one side of the protestant church, that was a while of a walk from their house. His mother and oldest sister had to wear long skirts and scarves which covered their shoulders and hair. It was traditional in Christian churches that women cover their shoulders. Arthur was left with his Father and three older brothers, all of which toward over him, so it made him look like a baby between the lot of them. It was embarrassing and his brothers always commented about how small he was.

It wasn't long after they sat down that mass started and in as little as a half an hour it was over. They always went for Sunday lunch after. It was a treat for them after being so good in church, or something like that. Though Arthur thought that being good was more like a treat for a child he couldn't complain with a Sunday roast!

On leaving the church, it was packed at the doors and Arthur could easily squeeze through. He noticed his family were already across the road, and not thinking he went to run, not noticing a car speeding towards him. The sound of car brakes screeching pierced his ears, his heart raced, he couldn't move, he shut his eyes. He was going to die.

"ARTHUR!"

Everything was silent. Did he get knocked down? Was he dead? He opened one of his eyes, once again he meet a magnificent shade of oceanic blue. No one in his family had those eyes, no, it could only be one person.

His eyes shot open. He was in the middle of the road. His mother was kneeling beside him crying slightly. His older brothers and father had looks of concern across their faces, one Arthur had never seen his brothers with before, his sister had her hands to her face, probably in shock, and Peter stood behind his mother clutching her scarf tightly.

"Arthur, you're okay?!" He shook his head as there was blonde strands of hair in his face. He dreaded looking up but he did. Francis held him tightly against his chest, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes filled with worry. Arthur put a finger to his face, there was blood coming down the side of his head. So he had been hit. He looked around again, this time his vision clear.

The driver of the red ford, Arthur noted, had come out of the car. Most people were looking at him. He blushed deeply. Francis caressed him softly, "Vous allez bien?"

"Eh, y-yes!" Arthur stammered. It was a good thing he took French so he could understand what the man was saying. He hopped onto his feet, trying to free himself for the French man as quickly as possible. His mother thanked the teacher, much to Arthur's disgust, and they went off down the pathway, Arthur's brothers shouting at him saying how he should look before he runs and how they were worried. Worried. Arthur like the sound of that.

Monday, Arthur had Art first thing. It was a pain after what had just happened. After class that day Arthur was called back. He flinched hearing the teacher say his name. He really hated this relationship. It was neither Love nor Hate. Arthur couldn't decide which one he actually wanted to be in.

"Arthur I understand your meant to be going to Maths class at ze moment, but hear me out just for a second." Francis pleaded as Arthur was about to leave. He sat back down. "Fine! But be quick!"

"Arthur... what ze 'ell were you thinking yesterday!? You could've been killed!" Francis spat out, sounding rather pissed off about the whole situation. Arthur gritted his teeth. "It's none of your business! Anyways, why would you care about my well being?"

"Arthur, mon lapin, You may not realise, but I do care for all my students, you being no exception. I do care deeply for you. If anything was to happen to you, or any of my students, well, I'd be 'eart broken!" He sat himself on the empty space on the long table beside Arthur.

"God, you sound like you're in love with me!" Arthur laughed, though looking away, averting the teacher's eyes because he was in fact blushing. Francis ignored the statement and instead continued. "Arthur I know what it's like to lose someone very close to me, and in a very similar way."

Arthur looked questionably at the elder man.

"Arthur, about a two years ago I was going to be married to a beautiful young girl named Joan." He said playing around with his hair, curling it nervously around his fingers. Arthur took a minute to take that in. Did he say going to be? "W-What happened? If you don't mind me asking!"

"Well, she fell pregnant. I was so overjoyed that I would finally be a father. She was such a pretty, innocent girl and during her pregnancy she had the brightest smile. But it wasn't to last, Arthur. Maybe it wasn't our fate, maybe it wasn't meant to be, I'll never know." He sighed heavily before continuing, " She was walking home one day, six months pregnant she was, and a man who, was after been out drinking, decided it was a good idea to go driving... She was crossing the road, and I was cycling that way home from my job in the local bakery. I saw her get hit Arthur. It's an image I can never erase from my head. And every time I think about it all I can remember is being in the 'ospital chanting to myself that it was my fault." Arthur mouth had dropped a little. He didn't know the feeling he felt inside. Was it... Guilt?

In truth he now felt bad for saying Francis didn't care, because he hadn't really known his background. If he was honest Arthur thought he was a lady killer, who went out with every women he saw, having one night stands every day of the week, though reality showed a kinder, gentler man, whose heart belong to only one.

"The baby was saved, a little girl. Me and Joan had decided earlier that we would name her Lilly and I did. Lilly Bonnefoy. She was so like her mother, Arthur, she was perfect." Francis smiled, taking a cigarette packet out of his coat pocket and taking one out. He lit it carefully, exhaling with a sigh afterwards.

"Well, what happened Lilly?"Arthur asked, watching the Frenchman's every move with a careful eye. Arthur noticed that Francis spoke way more causally to him now, almost as if they were close friends, meeting up for a drink after some time away from each other. Arthur wondered if he did this to all students or only him. Though thinking back to the kiss, it must be only himself. Though maybe...

"Lilly? Oh, I gave her away and moved here to become a teacher." Francis said bluntly.

"Wait, you mean to tell me you gave away the child that you had been longing for and packed off to here!?... Without her!?" Arthur raised a thick eyebrow. Francis sighed once again, "She was a very sick little girl, I tried but I couldn't mind her, so I gave her away."

"Oh..." Arthur trailed off, feeling guilty about what'd he'd just said.

"Don't worry Arthur, I'm glad I came over here!" Francis smiled, both not noticing their hands had once again come into contact. Francis fingers brushed against Arthur's palm. The Brit shivered, but he wasn't cold. It felt somewhat good. Francis touching him gently. Francis saying his name ever so quietly as Arthur blushed as colour close to scarlet.

"And why's that?" Arthur asked, though nearly inaudible as he was too lost in the Sapphire eyes ahead of him.

There was a long moment of silence. Only one thing was going through each of their heads:

_Does he love me...?_

Francis leaned forward a tiny inch. He didn't care if Arthur didn't love him. He loved Arthur and that was all he cared about. His other hand, that wasn't holding Arthur's, held the youngster's chin up a bit. Francis looked down into the nearly closed Emerald eyes. Just a little closer. He was nearly there.

To Arthur this was unreal, extraordinary and confusing all at once. He felt Francis's hand lift of his hand and slip round the back of his neck, dragging him in closer. Francis lingered over the boy, could he?

"Arthur. I happy here... because I have you." And that was it. In a split second Francis' lips were on his, in a hot, quick kiss, one that Arthur had never experienced before. It was much different from the last. This was fast, everything happened at such speed that Arthur couldn't quite come to terms with what was happening. He also didn't know that the slight moan he had just heard was coming from himself.

Francis' smell engulfed the young boy, turning him on more than he was before. He smelt of fresh bread and smoke, the bread almost as good as the one time he walked into the local bakery to get stuff for his mother, and the smoke not so good but Arthur got used to it. The smell was something Arthur would never forget. He let his hand clutch to Francis' shirt tighter, his other at his own chest. He could almost hear his heart thumping and he was sure Francis probably could to.

Francis' tongue slipped inside Arthur's slightly opened mouth. Arthur moaning louder. This was all too perfect, all too beautifully right to be real. Arthur wished it would never end, but it had to some time.

Francis was the one to break the kiss, which only could've lasted seconds, though both Francis and Arthur were happy it felt like more. Both were out of breath, gasping for the air that surrounded them. They gazed at each, Francis' hand travelling down Arthur's neck, putting his fingers through his short blonde hair affectionately. The Frenchman put his head forward, so his forehead was against that of the Brit's, his eyes closed, hoping it wasn't a dream, he opened them again finding Arthur was still there.

"You don't know how much I'm in love with you right now, Arthur." He whispered.

"But..." Arthur started. "What about Lilly? And what about Joan?"

Francis smiled getting the boy's question, "Arthur, Joan always said that if she was ever to pass that I could take another lover. It's not as if I'm forgetting about her. I do, still, deeply care for her. But Arthur, I think I should move on. And I've moved on to you."

Arthur was close to tears. Why was that dammed frog so perfect!?

Arthur was about to open his mouth to say something else but the art room door burst open. A very angry looking vice-principal Edelstein came marching in, scowling when he saw Arthur, even more so when he saw Francis.

"Arthur Kirkland! Mr. Beilschmidt, your maths teacher, has been complaining in my ear for the past twenty minutes saying you skipped class! Please go immediately! Why are you even here, in this room?" Roderich furrowed his brow, crossing his arms, trying to look just a bit intimidating.

"Sorry Sir. Mr Bonnefoy just wanted to talk to me." Arthur stood, then straightened out his jumper, and his wrinkled shirt. He hoped that the Vice didn't suspect anything, or everything would be ruined just like that. Mr. Edelstein nodded, and said something under his breath before leaving the two alone once again.

"I have to go. I'll see you Thursday." Arthur was heading towards the door but Francis called him back.

"Wait, Arthur!" Arthur swung back around.

"Eh, would you like to, eh... Come to my place on Saturday. I need someone to... show my around the city!" Francis lied, practically. Even though he had been living in London for a year now, he barely knew the way around, and what better than to get a British tour guide!

Arthur blushed, thoughts that shouldn't ever be mentioned rushing to his head.

"Eh, okay. I'll just tell me parents I'm going to a friends or something. Bye Frog!" Arthur was finally out the door. It had been such a wonderful first class he didn't know how he could last for the rest of the day.

"Bye sourcils~!" Francis laughed, Arthur giving him a death glare.

"What does that mean?" Francis chuckled once more waving at the boy as he closed the door. "I'll tell you on Saturday!"

**I'm so sorry, this came out late. I was in Spain for the week :) It was too hot, and it's freezing back here in Ireland!**

**Anyways, hope you liked, agus reviews are much appreciated,  
Loveless4life!**


	4. Chapter 4

**The French teacher and the English Student.**

_Soft hands caressed his body, fingers touching places that he had never experienced before. Oceanic eyes looked over him before their owner began kissing down his pale neck. Shivers of excitement and pleasure filled him; he arched his back, throwing his head onto the pillow below him, his ruffled strands of blonde hair carefully falling out of place, making his hair look more messy than it was at the beginning._

_All the while the man on top of him made sure he didn't forget a single bit of his body. Tracing a hand down past the boy's chest, and even further past his abdomen. Kissing the teen's collar bone, before going down to one of the boy's hardened nipples, and starting to lick and nip it gently while fondling with the other. The Brit mewled in delight. The elder went further down with his tounge, he went down and down, until finally the time had come. The youngsters shut his eyes tightly as the man engulfed him._

"_Oh, Francis~"_

Arthur jolted out of his light sleep. What in the world had he just dreamt about? He lifted up his blanket a tiny bit, looking around. He cursed himself, he had to get new underwear and bed sheets. Fast. He clambered out of his bed, walking over to the drawer and pulling out a new pair before noticing how dark it was outside. He looked at his watch.

"Damn it! It's only five in the bloody morning!" Even though it was early he still got dressed for the day ahead, the dream he just had running clearly through his head. At five o'clock his Mother and father would all ready by awake, his mother making a fry-up breakfast, and his father sitting reading the newspaper. It wasn't very exciting in the mornings at the Kirkland household.

"Oh, Arthur, why are you up so early?" The smell of rashers and sausages engulfed the youngster, who clambered effortlessly onto a chair across from his father. His father gave him a nod, his equivalent to 'good morning'.

"Ah, couldn't really sleep." He said. His mother gave him a pitiful sigh.

"But you'll be tired tonight boy," His father finally spoke, "It's a Saturday you know? We go help out with uncle Dan's farm remember?"

Oh, how could Arthur forget Uncle Dan's farm. Filled with filthy animals and wailing children, that farm was anything but a treat. He always wanted to stay at home with his mother and Peter, though then his brothers would call him a little girl that was afraid to get dirty. Also, Uncle Dan had two sons and four daughters, all of which picked on Arthur as well. Some cousins they were. Sometimes Arthur just felt like he needed to be in a more sophisticated family.

"Uncle Dan's farm? Wait, today's Saturday?" Sudden realisation shook Arthur. Saturday, that dream, everything was coming together. "Sorry Dad, I can't go, I'm meeting with a friend today."

"A friend? Who is he, dear? Do I know his mother?" Arthur's mother knew literally everyone's mother in the whole of London. Everyone they met they had to stop and talk too because Mrs. Kirkland knew and loved everyone. "Eh, no he's new in London."

"Oh, maybe you could invite him over sometime, honey." His mother smiled, her short ginger locks of hair, like Patrick's, Ayva's and Allistor's, bouncing. Arthur nodded in agreement, "I'm sure he'd love that!"

Just as the conversation went dull, the door to the kitchen opened and in came Peter, the youngest of them all, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He yawned taking a seat beside his father.

"Good morning Peter, have a good sleep?" His mother asked. "No. Ali, Pat and Ryan were up all night talking all night!"

The young boy complained throwing his head down onto the wooden table below him. Arthur watched the youngster, who was told to stop banging his head of the table because it was disturbing his father's reading. Peter was the baby of the household, perfect and cute in every way possible. It made Arthur think why he was left out. How come everyone around him was treated like Gods and he was like a slave?

"Arthur could you go get the boy's and your sister, it's already six I don't want them to be late when going to Daniel's farm."Arthur agreed, walking out of the kitchen and dragging himself forcefully up the stairs. He went into Ayva first. Her room was very girly as she was spoilt because she was the only girl. He walked over to his sister, who was buried beneath her thick covers.

"Ayva." He shoved her, but she didn't stir.

"Ayva!" He said louder but got no response.

"AYVA!" This time she jumped, nearly falling out of her bed. "What the fuck Arthur, go away!"

"You have to go to Dan's place, remember?" He asked and She rubbed her eyes while nodding.

"Wait why aren't you going?" Arthur blushed, he could never lie properly in front of his sister. It was just something that didn't work. Or when it did she'd always take it the wrong way.  
"I'm meeting with a friend today."

"A friend? You mean a date? Arthur! O my god, you have a girlfriend! How cute!" She squealed, grabbing Arthur two hands and pulling him forward. "What's her name? Where's she livin'?"

"I don't have a girlfriend! It's a new soccer friend I met!" He exclaimed and Ayva replied with a disappointed, 'oh'.

Then he left her room and went into the boy's room. Allistor and Patrick were cuddled into each other. Patrick's head laid gently on Allistor's chest. Ryan was sleeping on his own, his back facing Allistor and Patrick. He never really liked the idea of them together, but needless to say they were all best friends.

"Allistor, Patrick , Ryan wake up!" He shouted a little bit, and at once all eyes were open. Ryan jumped out of bed first, ruffling Arthur's hair before going out of the room and down to the bathroom. Allistor and Patrick didn't move. So Arthur went over and sat on Allistor, who jumped with the fright.

"Oi, little lassie, your heavy!" Allistor complained and Arthur scoffed, "I'm not a lassie! I'm a gentleman!"

Patrick laughed with his older brother at the youngster. Allistor had just enough strength left and moved his arm so the boy went flying to the floor. Arthur rubbed his head. "That hurt, you wankers!"

Though they just laughed again. Arthur decided it was best to leave so he did, he couldn't take their abuse so early in the morning.

At seven his siblings left, and at eight he left for the address that Francis had given him. He walked through many streets he knew, and others he didn't. Though all had one thing in common: Everyone knew who he was. Everyone knew Arthur Kirkland, it didn't matter what part of London you were in, Everyone knew him and for bad reasons.

After a fifteen minute walk he reached a large apartment block in the middle of the busy city. He went inside, Francis gave him the code which made things easier. He looked at the sheet.

"_Floor 5, at the top, to the left, use the stairs, elevators broken, Francis~"_

He sighed, scrunching the piece of paper up once more and shoving it into his back pocket. He followed the instructions, and was relieved when he saw Bonnefoy on the door. He stopped for a bit, took a deep breath, and knocked. Almost immediately Francis opened the door, wearing more casual clothes than normal, and invited him inside.

The apartment was huge, sparkling clean, and a balcony overlooking the whole city. It was beautiful, much better than his house. At one side of the living room there was an easel, and millions of different books, the other end lead into the kitchen, which was as clean and neat as the rest of the apartment. White seemed to be the colour theme, as nearly everything was a pure white. There was a table and four chairs out in the balcony and a newspaper laid out across the table with a mug beside it, Francis had obviously been out there.

"You seem amazed. It nice, isn't it?" Francis said walking past Arthur and onto the balcony. Arthur followed wanting to see the view. Arthur was right, it was breathtaking. " It's really beautiful!"

"Zank you~" He sang picking up the paper once more. Arthur took a seat across from him, not realising that he was whistling 'All you need is Love'. Francis laughed, "You like Ze Beatles, no?"

Arthur blushed, "Eh, yeah."

"So," Arthur started, changing the subject, "When do we begin your tour?"

"Oh, yes, now, I guess." Francis put down the paper and drank off what was left of his coffee. Arthur smiled, though put a hand to his mouth, not wanting to show it, "What do you want to do first?"

"I was looking for a Catholic church. Is there any in the area?" Francis asked, and Arthur's eyes widened.  
"You're a Catholic?" His hand fell from his mouth. He never really met any Catholics before. Well his mother used to be one, but she converter to be with Arthur's father, not that it mattered what religion she was but she thought it better to be the same.

The Brit cleared his throat, "Well, there's not many, but there's one by the Protestant church I go to. It just down the road from that one."

"Hm. I forgot you were a Protestant. Oh well, that dosen't matter, I still love you~" Arthur blushed. How could Francis say it so freely?

"A-anything else you want to know?" He regretted asking since it would probably lead to the same words being said.

"Hm. Vell, I would like to know where there's a good bakery." Francis looked longingly out at the city. He missed the smell of the bakery he used to work in back in France. Arthur on the other hand, was glad about that question. He knew exactly where one was, and he loved the scent you got when you went inside.

"I know where one is. You want me to show you?" Arthur asked. "Yes, isn't that what you came for?"

Arthur scoffed in annoyance.

In minutes, Arthur found himself walking, no, more like skipping his way down the familiar path to the local bakery. It was owned by a family called Hudson, hence their bakery's name was 'Hudson's Treats'. The main owner was a man named John. He had a son named Evan in Arthur's class and a older girl named Kayla in Ayva's. They were always nice to the Kirkland's, no matter what happened.

A small bell jingled as Arthur opened the heavy oak door. John had been serving coffee to a lady sitting at one of the tables. The Bakery doubled as a small cafe which brought in many customers. Madeline, John's wife, had seen Arthur enter and immediately dragged two seats over for him and Francis to sit at. Arthur was just glad she didn't say anything.

"Nice place. Smaller than the bakery I used to work at but not a bad location." Francis had a look around at everyone sitting at the different seats. They were people of many ages and races sitting comfortably at one of the many chairs. "Yeah, I only came here once or twice with my mother, but the owners are family friends, so they've known me since I was a baby."

"Ah, explains the warm welcome!" They both laughed. No sooner had they arrived, a waitress, that Arthur recognized as oldest daughter Kayla, came over. She smiled seeing Arthur.

"Good morning! Is there anything I could get you both?" She asks politely and Arthur looks questionably at Francis who is indulged in the menu.

"Hm, I'll 'ave... oh, a croissant and a coffee, s'il vous plaît!" Francis grinned. Kayla gasped, blushing, "You're French?"

"Oui!" He chuckles at the girl's obvious awe for him. She just blushed more clutching tighter to her tray.

There was a moment of silence before Arthur finally broke it, "I'll have tea."

"Oh sorry! I almost forgot! I'll be right back!" And she ran off, Francis watching her smiling lovingly. Arthur couldn't say he was pissed but if there was a word that was more than pissed than that was what he was. "Hey are you really having another coffee? I mean you just had one."

Francis wasn't listening, it was like he was in another world. Arthur sighed looking back at the front door. What if someone saw them together and suspected something? He'd be killed. Eaten and spit out by murderous rumours that would stick with him for the rest of his life. He, no, no one, could live with that shame for the rest of their lives.

As Francis waited for the waitress to come back, Arthur decided he needed air so he went outside the cafe. He was just happy Francis didn't notice his departure. He sat on the ledge of the window, furthest away from where him and the Frenchman were sitting. He took a deep breath, he hated keeping secrets.

"Hey, Hey, Artie, you waiting for another customer?" By the way he said Artie, Arthur was convinced it was Alfred, though the second part brought a very different person into his head. He turned, seeing a group of four boys walking towards him, huddled together in a gang like way. Arthur gasped. They were they people who always called him a no good prostitute, although when it came to love and sex, they themselves had more than one partner.

"No, I'm not mind you! What's with you and calling me a prostitute anyway?" Arthur barked back, not one bit afraid that those boys could indeed beat him to a pulp. They laughed, though it was more fake than anything.

"God," The main man known as Jeff spat out, "You have some nerves Kirkland!"

"Oh, you think I'd be scared off imbeciles like you?" Arthur tried to sound tough but his voice shook a little. The boys walked closer, Jeff catching Arthur by the collar and lifting him up of the ground an tiny bit. Arthur squeaked, putting his hand on Jeff's and tried to push them away.

"Imbeciles? Really you little slut? Haha, calling us imbeciles can ye imagine, guys?" Arthur was thrown back against the stone wall of the building beside the bakery. He heard his back snap. Not a good thing.

Jeff walked forward, and gave Arthur a powerful kick to the stomach. Arthur flinched, clutching to his green sweater vest. It hurt. It hurt extremely badly. Than another kick. Though this time to the side of the head, which made blood drip down the side of his pale face. In seconds he was on the ground, now four boys kicking and punching him. He screamed out hoping just one person would hear him.

Back inside, Francis had been so busy waiting for the waitress to come back that when he finally went to talk to Arthur he realised that there was no one there. He looked around questionably. Just as Kayla had finished putting his coffee down on the table, an elder women shrieked in horror. All attention was now on outside where a gang was beating up a young boy. Francis gasped. It had to be Arthur.

In an instant Francis was outside, knocking over a chair or two as he ran towards the door.

"Oi!" He shouted, and the boys ceased their kicking. Jeff looked back and replied with an obnoxious, "What?"

"What do you zink you're are doing to zhat young boy?" It was only for a second but Francis got sight of Arthur. He lay, near unconscious, on the ground, blood running down his face, and his right eye a shade of dark blue. Francis felt a strange type of anger surge up inside him. How dare they beat what was his!

"We were just teaching this Prostitute his place!" Jeff scoffed before looking back at Arthur. He raised his fist ready to punch but Francis got in sooner. "Prostitute? What mean insults you give to your elders."

Jeff looked questionably at Francis, "Elders? Whatcha talking 'bout?"

"Jeffery Edison, aged thirteen. This boy you are beating up is in fact Fifteen. That means you are younger! You are in my French class, you remember me, no?" Francis smiled as the boy shrieked in remembrance.

"M-Mr. Bonnefoy!?" Francis nodded. Jeff barked out in anger at the older teacher, "How dare you say my real age!"

Though Francis just laughed, "Go back home Jeffery."

And with that the boy and his group scrambled off, leaving the site of the damage. Francis knelt down beside Arthur, who was trying desperately to sit up. Francis caught Arthur's hand and helped him keep steady. The boy really did look the definition of bet up. Francis caressed his cheek gently.

"Let's go back to my place."

**Sorry the ending is a bit bad... But you'll have something to look forward to in the next chapter! *Smirks evilly and looks away***

**Anyways, hope you like, and reviews are always welcomed,  
Loveless4life!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: um... do I really need to say it? Please be nice, this is the first time I've written a long scene like this. *Goes and hides in wardrobe***

**The French Teacher and the English Student.**

Francis put a cold towel over Arthur's head, gently dapping away at the wounds that were inflicted on the boy. They were everywhere, bruises and cuts, mostly on his head, and his wrist was sprained. The French man carefully wrapped a bandage around Arthur's wrist, other than the sound of the bandage unravelling there was complete silence. Arthur was looking down at the bed he sat on, his free, uninjured hand liking the feel of the soft blanket that covered it. Francis was looking at Arthur, memorizing the boys wonderful features. The green eyes, the thick eyebrows, long eyelashes, and that was just his eyes. Then it was awkward when Arthur coped him observing, though Arthur couldn't say he didn't like the attention.

"Ow!" Arthur groaned as Francis touched off his sore wrist. "Sorry, Angleterre."

"That's England, right? Why do you call me England?" Arthur asked as Francis moved to his face and wiped the blood off his forehead. "I'm not sure, it just seems right to call you England."

Then another long silence. Francis soon finished covering Arthur's face and arms with many different bandages and plasters. He looked like someone who had barely survived a car crash by the time he was finished. Francis couldn't help but keep looking at him. He had the short hair, and delicate face that Joan had when she died. His bruised smile the same as hers when she left him. He looked away, the memories that were coming back were just too painful.

"It's two, you want lunch?" Francis asked, as he reached the doorframe. Arthur nodded, "Yes please, if that's not too much hassle."

"No, not at all Arthur, you are my guest after all." Francis smiled before going into the kitchen. He took down the ingredients for crepes, something he hadn't made in a while. While looking around for the lemon sauce he heard a shy voice calling him. He turned finding Arthur was now sitting on a chair at the dining table. "Yes, mon Lapin?"

Arthur blushed and looked away, he didn't want to say it. No, it was more like he didn't want to know the outcome. "Eh, my legs."

"What about them?" Francis asked, genuinely though, not sarcastically.

"Well they hurt too." If there was any time that Arthur was cute, which was a lot, this had to be the best. Francis held his breath. Arthur held out his leg for him to check, while still not looking Francis in the eyes. He was blushing scarlet, the embarrassment off the situation all too much for him. "Oh, okay."

Francis walked over and rolled up Arthur's jeans until they came up around his knees. His legs were about as bad as the rest of him. Though there was no blood, there was still bruises covering the whole length of his legs. Francis looked up at Arthur. "I 'ave forgotten my zings inside in ze room, I'll go get zem now."

But before Francis walked off Arthur caught his arm. "N-no!"

"What, but I 'ave too get ze-" Francis trailed off seeing the blushed that covered the Brit's cheeks. "Ah I see."

Francis knelt back down beside the teenager, picking up one of Arthur's legs and placing it on his shoulder. Arthur watched carefully at what the Frenchman was doing. Francis began at his ankles, placing chaste kisses on his feet. Arthur shivered, the tickly sensation feeling weird though he didn't dislike it.

Francis continued up the boy's leg. The Frenchman taking in that Arthur's shins were very sensitive. Arthur tried to hold in several moans, all of which seemed to escape through his lips. Francis smiled, "Your enjoying this, Lapin?"

Arthur tried to protest though Francis put a finger to his lips not wanting to here the lies, "Shh. Just enjoy it, don't zink."

And he didn't. Francis' lips were on his in an aggressive, fast kiss, his hands through Arthur's short blonde hair, his tounge thoroughly exploring the Brit's virgin mouth. Arthur's moaned into it, Francis breaking it when the need for air was vital.

In minutes Arthur found himself being brought back into the bedroom. Though he was to in love to care where it was going to lead. Francis had rid Arthur of his signature green sweater vest and shirt in minutes, taking off his own shirt seconds after. His hands traced down the Brit's pale skin, he took in everything, the freckles that scattered his body, the shade of his skin, everything about the boy Francis memorized.

Arthur's hands entangled themselves in Francis' silky, long hair as the Frenchman traced a finger menacingly over one of the boy's nipples. Arthur hadn't even gotten the time to moan when the other was taken by Francis' mouth.

"F-Francis! I'm not a g-girl!"He groaned. "I figured as much!" He replied noticing the bulge in Arthur's extremely tight jeans.

The hand that had not fondled Arthur's nipple made its way down Arthur's chest and to the boy's jeans. Arthur had been co-operative so they came off without a struggle.

"Here, lick zese." Francis said and put three of his fingers inside the Brit's mouth. Arthur mewled before beginning to coat the man's finger's. "Hm, zat'll do."

"'Ave you ever done this before Arthur?" Francis asked as he positioned one of his fingers. "No. B-but I did see my brothers do it o-once."

"What?" Though the reply was cut short by Arthur who made a small squeak as Francis pushed a finger inside his tight entrance. "I-It feels w-weird!"

"I know but you'll get used to it." Francis pushed in a second finger then finally the third. Arthur clenched to the sheets. "It's h-hurts!"

Francis ignored the painful cry Arthur let out when he pushed them in further and continued in until his fingers could reach in no more. Arthur furrowed his eyebrows. It was nothing like he had ever felt before. It certainly hurt though, it felt somewhat good.

Then Francis pulled out his fingers violently. Arthur squeaked again, something he was known to do when hurt. "Okay, this my 'urt a bit more zan ze last time!"

Arthur bit his lip, though nodded reassuringly.

Though many thoughts travelled through Francis's head at that moment he ignored them. This was what he wanted, no he needed. He loved Arthur, and by now he was sure Arthur felt the same.

Then he pushed himself forward and Arthur yelped. "I-it hurts!"

"I know, but you 'ave to bare it!" Arthur was tight, extremely tight. Francis' clenched his teeth and pushed further inside until he was fully inside the teen. After a few seconds Arthur finally said, "You c-can move..."

The Brit looked away , his face red from embarrassment. "Okay."

And then with slow movements at first, Francis began to thrust into the youngster. Francis groaned feeling the boy around him. He had never done this before with a boy, only women. And he had to say it did feel incredibly right and good with Arthur.

Arthur writhed underneath Francis. He knew it would be painful, he had seen Patrick groaning underneath Allistor in pain, but he didn't expect it to be this bad. His hands wrapped around Francis' neck and he brought the Frenchman down to him, pulling him in for a long heated kiss.

Though it wasn't as long as the first, it was still as special. Arthur could safely say he had never felt so good in all his life.

"Arthur I'm close, what do I do?" Francis asked as he was nearing his climax. "I-inside, come inside me."

Arthur moaned, opening his eyes slightly so he looked into Francis'. The Frenchman clenched his teeth, and with one last groan and thrust into the teen, he came.

"Francis!"

* * *

"Hm, he's not here?" Alfred asked Mrs. Kirkland. She shook her head. "Eh, I'm sorry Alfred, he said he was going to a friend's house today."

"Um, thanks anyway Mrs. Kirkland." Alfred said and the woman smiled before closing the door.

"A friend?" Alfred questioned. "Could it be Feliks?"

He began to walk home then. He would ring Toris just to make sure and ask if Feliks was with him or not. Chances were that was the friend Arthur was with. He kicked a beer can that was on the ground as he walked past the apartments beside his neighbourhood. He looked at the ground around him stopping when he saw a small note with Arthur's name on the front. He picked it up curiously.

"_Floor 5, at the top, to the left, use the stairs, elevators broken, Francis~"_

"Francis?" Alfred gasped. "It's couldn't be... Mr. Bonnefoy?"

Alfred looked up at the large apartment building. "So that means he's in there..."

"Hm, I better get Mattie..." He said pushing up he's glasses. "Or I could just go in myself..."

**Sorry this is late. I hope that scene was okay I had trouble writing it so sorry if it's not...**

**Anyway, please review and I hope you enjoyed,**

** Loveless4life**


	6. Chapter 6

**The French Teacher and the English Student**

"Alfred! Why did you drag me in here? Mom said this is where the richer people live!" Matthew was currently being dragged by his brother through long halls and up numerous amounts of stairs in a luxurious apartment block beside their avenue. Matthew kept having to hush Alfred, afraid that the higher class people would call the police on them. He hadn't even a single clue as to why they were even there and every time he tried to ask he was ignored.

"I know, I know! But Arthur's in here!" Alfred finally said and Matthew took a minute to digest the newly given information. "Arthur!?"

"Shhhh!"

When they finally reached the top of the apartment block, Matthew stopped for a breather, though Alfred kept going up the silent hallway, remembering what the note had said and went left. Down another bit was a door, beside it the name tag, 'Bonnefoy'. Matthew soon caught up, looking with confusion at what his younger brother was looking at.

"Bonnefoy, that French and art teacher?" Matthew asked and Alfred nodded. "Do you know anything about him Mattie?"

"Hm, well if I recall he is Arthur's new Art teacher, though I only ever had him once for a free class." Matthew explain, not sure if Alfred was actually listening or not. "He seems quite nice."

"Mm... Do you say it's open?" Alfred's hand was hesitantly over the door handle. One part of him hoping it was open, the other not wanting to know why Arthur was there.  
"Alfie! We can't just go in!"

"Listen it's fine! I just want to see why our friend is in there, alright bro? Calm down, it's not like he's in there for anything other than school work!" Though Alfred knew himself that that last part was a lie. "Oh fine, but just by quiet!"

Alfred was amazed to find that it had been left opened. The door barely gave off any noise as it was opened, which was a good thing. Alfred and Matthew wondered inside. It was so clean except for some of the draws had been left open and there was bandages on the table.

"Alfie we should go!" Matthew whispered, looking around frantically. Though Alfred disagreed. Why was the balcony and front doors open when there was no one there? There had to be someone. On walking in further he noticed that one of the white dining chairs that was meant to be facing the wall was facing the kitchen, and on the seat of it was something Alfred nearly had a heart attack about. Blood.

He ran over. "Mattie look! Blood! This is probably Arthur's! What if he's killed him!?"

Matthew joined him over at the chair, taking a small bit up with his fingers. "It's fresh."

Matthew looked at the table. Bandages. That probably meant that one of them got hurt and the other was fixing it. It was probably Arthur, the Canadian thought, saying that his sibling were awful bullies.

Beside him Alfred silently sobbed, his hands clasped together in prayer.

"Calm down Al! One of them was probably injured I doubt anyone was killed!" Matthew scolded at his younger brother, before standing one again. Everything was silent for a moment, before a very faint sound could be heard. Both teens looked at each other as if to say 'was that you?'. But it wasn't either of them, which made them confused.

Then another, louder this time.

"Was that a... moan?" Matthew asked to no one in particular. Alfred looked up. "Like a hurtful moan or a... sex moan?"

"I'm not sure... more of the latter." Matthew walked further over to a door were the sounds were coming from. "Sex!?"

Matthew rolled his eyes, putting a finger to his lips to hush to other boy.

Now silent, Matthew could hear from the room a host of other noises. Pants, and groans, and the slight creaking of a bed. His eyes widened. "Alfred... I think Arthur and Francis are having-"

"Francis!"

The shouting of the name gave Alfred cold chills down his back. He stopped. His heart racing, he couldn't think straight. Arthur and Francis were having sex. The realisation hit him like a gunshot to the heart. "No." He said over and over. It couldn't be real. Arthur was his.

"Come on Al! We have to go!" Matthew whispered, catching Alfred by the hand and dragging him towards the door. "I knew we shouldn't have came here!"

The door of the apartment was closed shut with a slam, neither boy wanting to know what happened in that room, neither wanting to face Arthur when Monday came.

In the room Arthur's heavy breathing soothed back into a levelled breath quite quickly. Francis still lay on top of him, just looking at him, his cerulean eyes engulfing Arthur. It was quiet now, the silence that had over took the room a good thing, it wasn't awkward or weird, it was enjoyable, each man getting to come to terms with what they had just done. Arthur smiled up at the elder teacher, his hand reaching up to touch either side of the Frenchman's face.

"I love you Francis."

Francis went down for a kiss, stopping when his lips lingered over Arthur's before muttering, "And I love you Arthur."

Their lips joined in what was a sweet, short kiss filled with love and passion.

That Monday Arthur was avoided by Matthew and Alfred as if he had caught some sort of sickness. Questions as to why circled around in his head, he seemed to ignore the most obvious. Art class went on as normal on that Monday morning, nothing was said about the Saturday that had just past. Arthur, as always was the last to leave the class, getting a kiss on the cheek as he left for his next subject.

At lunch he sat with Feliks. They were on their own as Toris and some of the others in Feliks group had gone on a science trip and weren't back yet. Arthur kept looking over at Matthew and Alfred who never seemed to look back. They were laughing and chatting with other friends, it made Arthur wonder what he had done to upset them.

"Feliks," Arthur asked as they sat down at one of the many tables in the big canteen.  
"Yeah?" the Pole replied tucking a piece of his loose strands of blonde hair behind his ear.

"You don't have to answer this, but, have you and Toris ever had sex?" Feliks now paid full attention to Arthur. His face dawned a new expression, seriousness. He crossed his legs, putting his head on his hands and lent forward, "Yes, why do you ask?"

"Um, eh, no reason!" Arthur lied, and Feliks wasn't buying it.

"If you want to know more, than yes, we did, only a little while ago actually, like a week or two I think." Feliks said, his features now showing sadness. "But Toris isn't like, really in to that so we don't do it that much.

Arthur let out a quiet 'oh'.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked after a minute of silence. For him it did still pain, especially when he was sitting, his brothers always wondered why he couldn't stop squirming in his chair.

"Not anymore! It did when we did it first! I mean you wouldn't expect it but Liet's huge!" He laughed, though Arthur couldn't laugh. "Hm, anyways, why do you ask? Don't tell me you're going out with someone! Who is it!?"

"No one! Seriously!" Arthur protested against Feliks bombardment into his public life. "Oh, or are you like planning to do it? I bet that's it!"

"No, I just wanted to know!" Arthur said whishing he hadn't started the conversation. "Oh, okay! But if you ever are going out with someone make sure to tell me!"

"Mm..." Arthur groaned wishing lunch would just end.

After school Matthew and Alfred walked home as usual though they didn't go to Arthur's house. They were traumatized, to say the least. Arthur had sex. No, Arthur had sex with a teacher. It was all too much for the brothers. Matthew sighed as they walked past the apartments.

"I don't think we should avoid Arthur, Al. I'm sure he has a perfectly good reason for this!" Alfred couldn't stop staring at the apartments, through the gate he could see Francis getting out of his car, he just wanted to catch the frog by the neck!

"No, I can't forgive him. A teacher!? Arthur's underage, which means we could put Francis in jail for this! Hey... that gives me an idea!" Alfred smiled evilly to himself, looking forward, a glint of hope in his eyes. "Alfred! You can't tell anyone! It would ruin Arthur's family all over again!"

"I suppose, but this shouldn't be happening I just feel like I need to tell someone!" Alfred said his fists clenching at his side. Matthew pushed his bag further up his shoulders as it was falling down. They had just entered their estate, already loads of young children ran around screaming and playing, it was like a maze trying to get through them all. "Well then, tell me!"

"What?" Alfred questioned looking at his older sibling. "Yeah tell me about what you feel, eh. It would be better than getting Arthur in trouble right?"

"I guess."

When they finally reached their house, Matthew opened the door first.

"Oh hello boys! How was school?" Their mother said as she came out of the kitchen wiping a plate clean.

"Great!" Alfred said in a dull, sarcastic tone before running up the stairs.

"Oh?" His mother questioned watching him run away. She turned back to Matthew, "And how was your day dear?"

"Good I guess." He smiled walking into the living room where Kumajirou was waiting for him.

The next day after school, Arthur was behind once again as he walked through the streets with his brothers and sister. They were talking about school and how their day had went, none bothered to ask Arthur. He kept walking, trying to listen in on what they were saying, though he couldn't really hear because they were much taller than him and further in front.

"So I told him to shut up, and his was like in his stupid French accent, 'oh nononon, you must sit, sit!" Allistor was waving his hands around like someone out of a mental institution and all the gang laughed. "God! He's so gay!"

"You can't say much!" Ryan laughed though instead of getting angry Allistor and Patrick laughed even more.

"Wait who?" Arthur said and Ayva turned her head. "That French teacher! He's some weirdo!"

"A weirdo? Why?" Arthur asked and they all stopped walking.

"Artie! Come on! He's a bloody perv." Ryan said and Arthur's eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Don't tell me ya didn't know?!" Patrick said as a question, and Arthur still looked on with a confused expression. "Rumours have it he's going ou' with some kids in first and second year!"

Arthur's eyes widened. Kids? That's more than one. So that meant he wasn't the only person that Francis so called loved. He was being used. It hurt to think that, he's heart was suddenly filled with what felt like an almighty weight. Tears formed in his green eyes.

"No! Please that's not really true is it?" Arthur spat out, his eyes down on the floor. His brothers and sister were wondering why the sudden outburst of emotion was after occurring, they looked at him strangely. "Knowing him, probably!"

Patrick's words were true. His look gave of a somewhat playboy appearance. Arthur knew he should have never trusted him.

"I- I have to go!" Was Arthur's finally reply before he ran the opposite way to his bewildered siblings. He had to see Francis. He had to know.

**Oh, drama! I wonder if anyone knows what happened! *smirks evilly and runs away into corner***

**Anyways, hope you like so far and thanks for reading,**

** Loveless4life!**


	7. Chapter 7

**The French Teacher and the English Student.**

"You!" Francis was just about to walk into his apartment when a similar voice caught his attention. Arthur Kirkland stormed towards him, teas rolling off his extremely, frightfully pale face. He wondered why he would be crying. It must of meant something was after happening. He dropped his bag and ran over to the English boy.

"Arthur what 'appened?" Francis went to touch his face, but his hand was smacked away. "You! You bastard!"

"What? Arthur tell me what appened! Come inside!" Francis pleaded, trying to grab the boy's hand but Arthur stepped back and Francis could now see him fully. His face was red, his cheeks flushed, and he was crying so much you could clearly see his tear stains. It broke Francis' heart.

"No! I-I hate you! I just hate you!" Arthur cried falling to his knees. "You 'ate me? Why?"

"You never loved me Francis! It was a lie! A bloody trap and I fell for it! I fell for you!" Arthur cried into his hands, and Francis could safely say he had never been more confused in his whole life. "Angleterre, what are you saying?"

He knelt down beside the teen, praying that his next door neighbour, or in fact anyone else, wouldn't see what was happening. Arthur was crying hysterically, he couldn't think straight. Why!? Why him!?

"You know what I'm saying! I'm just a toy for you! You have millions of others students you are so called in love with! Why me!?" Arthur cried his hands clutching Francis's shirt tightly. His brain was telling him that he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but his heart was saying different. Well to tell the truth, his heart wasn't saying anything, it had been broken. Arthur felt as if it wasn't there anymore.

"Why you? Arthur, you are confusing me! Please tell me what is 'appening? ...And what do you mean by millions of others!?" Francis asked one question after the other. Arthur looked up at him, his lime green eyes that Francis once only saw happy, were now saddened, as if someone had died, or worse. Francis didn't like to think it but Arthur looked to be in pain. Something was hurting him, and he needed to find out what.

"I'm not the only one you say 'I love you' too, am I?" Arthur asked, his voice scarily calmer than it was before. "What...?"

"Tell me!" Arthur screamed, causing Francis to jump back. He had never seen Arthur that mad.

"Arthur you are the only person I love!" He tried to get that across to the Brit, but Arthur had none of it. "Lies! Why do you keep lying!"

"Lying?" Francis tilted his head slightly to one side, his blonde hair falling off his shoulders. "My brothers told me that you are seducing all the 1st and 2nd years!"

Francis nodding his head in understanding, so there really was rumours going around. Francis had heard of them before though he hadn't really thought much of it. He simply brushed them off, though over the last day or two, the rumours seemed to fly around the school faster than the plague. Francis had to say he was worried for his job but again he simply ignored them.

"Rumours, Arthur! Those are all rumours! People are trying to make me look bad, trying to give me a bad image!" Francis said holding Arthur's hands with a firm grip. He wanted the boy to look him straight in the eye, he wanted Arthur to know that he loved him. But Arthur was looking away. "Rumours...?"

"Yes Arthur! When I say I love someone I mean it! And I really do love you!" Francis moved his hand so that it was under the Brit's chin. He turned the boy towards him. His cerulean eyes saddened by the fact Arthur didn't trust him anymore. "I love you Arthur!"

Arthur turned away once again. "Love for you is such an overused word."

Francis was baffled as Arthur got up. He was hurt when Arthur walked away. What made him not believe him? He was innocent of the crimes that he was being accused of!

In School the next day, Alfred and Matthew suddenly began hanging out with Arthur again. Matthew had noticed how depressed Arthur had become, though Alfred on the other hand, took no notice.

"Sup Artie!" Alfred said taking a seat beside the Brit for the next class, which was Geography. Matthew decided to sit behind Alfred saying that there was someone else sitting on the other side of Arthur. "Good morning Alfred."

The first thing Matthew noticed about Arthur was his tone of voice. It was like the words were being dragged out of his mouth. Like pulling teeth, was the best way the Canadian could describe it.

The teacher, Mr. Fernández Carriedo, also known as Antonio, came in and left his books down on the desk, humming the tune of a Spanish song that no one else understood. He beamed widely at his young students, before jumping up on to the desk and making himself comfortable.

"Hola class!" He smiled as usual, "What do you want to do today?"

"Sleep!" Someone from the back suggested their head tiredly resting on their arms.

The Spanish man laughed, "No, No! We can't sleep! How about we work and I'll play some Spanish music!"

The whole class was suddenly enthusiastic about Geography, and the Spaniard smiled before turning to the record player beside his desk. He took off the record that was already on it and replaced it with another before putting down the needle. The room was soon filled with music and words that no one understood but still enjoyed. Everyone that is, except Arthur.

The second thing Matthew noticed: His sudden joy and happiness seemed to have disappeared. The Arthur he once knew would be happy, and sad, and angry, and embarrassed and everything else, though this Arthur was... Emotionless, almost as if he was frozen in time.

Class soon ended, and Arthur walked ahead, bombarding through everyone to get to his locker. It was break time, which only lasted ten minutes, and Arthur would normally be organised by then but he had completely forgot to get all his books. In less than a few seconds, Arthur disappeared into the crowd of students, away from Alfred and Matthew. The twin brothers looked at each other sadly, they needed to know what was going on.

Arthur sighed running down the stairs to get to Religion, many thoughts were rushing through his head and what made it worse was when he saw Francis talking to another student. It was a young girl, with short blonde hair, cut just like that of a boy's, she clutched her books tightly to her chest, smiling and laughing as she talked to the French man. Francis seemed to be smiling back, and if Arthur could see clearly he was... blushing!?

"You got over me that quickly huh?" Arthur muttered, feeling a tear drip onto his hand. He bit his lip before walking off to his next class.

* * *

"I can't bare see him like this Alfred!" Matthew whispered to Alfred in the middle of maths. "Mmm" Was the American's reply.

"What happened? It's like he's a completely different person." Matthew was inquisitive, a bit too much for Alfred's liking. "I dunno! Go ask him later!"

"Alfred, please be quiet." Said the teacher and Alfred apologized.

"But he always runs away from me! I just need to know!" Matthew took down another sum from the board before answering it. His eyes were on the clock, just five more minutes and he'd be in French. He always like French, since he could speak every word of it he passed tests easily.

As was said five minutes later the bell sounded throughout the classroom. Matthew got up and waved his brother a good bye before running up some steps to get to his French class. When he walked in most people were already chatting away, though his teacher wasn't there yet. Matthew couldn't understand she was always on time.

"Bonjour! Ms. O'Keefe is out, I'm Mr. Bonnefoy, I'll be teaching you French today!" Matthew's head shot up from his French book. It really was Mr. Bonnefoy, the same Mr. Bonnefoy that Arthur had called out when engaging in 'that' activity... Matthew blushed, pushing up his glasses.

"You are at feelings right? Like furieux, triste et en colere?" Francis asked flicking through the thin pages of the second year book. He sighed when no one answered. "I'll take that as a oui then!"

"Okay, what is sad in French?" He asked and a few hands went up to answer. "Um, brunette down in ze back."

"Triste?" The girl asked and Francis nodded. "Yes. Next... uh... Furious?"

"Furieux!" Another person answered and Matthew was beginning to wonder why Francis was avoiding the words for happy. "Eh sir, why are you avoiding happy?"

Someone else took the words right out of the Canadian's mouth.

"Because, I do not wish to be happy." Was the reply and Matthew put all the pieces together. Francis and Arthur obviously were after having a fight. But.. about what? "Oh? Why?"

"None of your concern... now, moving on" He was quick to reply and whispers as to why he was upset circulated the small classroom. Matthew listened to some of the theories, one was that a relative died, another was that his wife left him, the last was that he was upset about the rumours. Wait, Matthew paused, what rumours?

The rumours were killing him. Each new rumour that was made up ruined his image, his reputation. At first he didn't care. They were just stupid rumours that were made up about him because he was new, but now they were getting worse. It seemed that with every new hour another rumour was made up. And worse still the culprit was unknown.

Francis huffed as he crossed his arms. Mr Beilschmidt had called him to the office a while ago, but he hadn't yet got to the point of why he called the Frenchman.

"Francis Bonnefoy, you heard ze rumours, right?" Ludwig said as stern as usual. Francis looked up at the German. He had a feeling that the private meeting was going to be about the infamous rumours. "Oui, I 'ave!"

"Are they true?" Ludwig asked, now sitting down behind his desk. Francis shook his head, "Non, I would never touch a child!"

"Really? What about Arthur?" The German man noticed Francis' mouth drop in surprise. "A-Arthur?"

"A fellow second year told me that he spotted you two together." The tension in the room suddenly soared dangerously. Someone saw them? "What? You must be mistaken!"

"Francis, he described to me vividly what he saw! So by law, I'm afraid that I can't keep you in my school." Ludwig closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. Francis slumped back onto his chair. He froze, once again love had ruined his life! "So... I'm fired?"

He looked up with hope in his eyes, hoping he'd only get suspended.

"Yes." The principal nodded.

The hope was crushed, just like that.

"B-but.. why!?" Francis looked to the floor. To guilty to look the German in the eye. "You won't tell the police or... Arthur?"

"No, but if you see this boy again, I'm afraid I'll have too!" Ludwig said sadly. He really didn't mind Francis, and that was a lot coming from the German. Francis was a good teacher, and he really didn't want to let him go, but what other choices were there?

"I understand. Zank you Mr. Beilschmidt..." Francis had by now digested his punishment. He was wrong to have ever laid eyes on the beautiful young boy known as Arthur. Why? Why had he fallen for those big bottle green eyes, and the nice smile? He just couldn't understand it. He stood up and saluted a goodbye to the Principal. He walked to his classroom in silence. When he entered he looked around a final time before putting on his long trench jacket and picking up his briefcase. He couldn't stay here any longer. Everyone around the school area probably knew him as the Pervert who runs after small children. He closed his eyes sadly. He had made up his mind. He had to move back to France. He had to see Lilly.

**Hey! Sorry for the long wait, but school has started again and I have homework! Ugh, stupid teachers and their love for giving homework! Anyways, I know this doesn't really advance the story or anything but hey! **

**Next chapter will hopefully come out soon but for now that's all!**

**Loveless4life!**


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